


A (Half) Alien in An Ice Cream Shop

by DoctorRiverSong



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pete's World, post-journey's end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorRiverSong/pseuds/DoctorRiverSong
Summary: "While she was still living on the TARDIS, being woken up by the Doctor bouncing up and down on her bed was a completely normal occurrence." A glimpse into life after Journey's End. Because sometimes you just need ice cream.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written waaaaay back in February 2013 as part of an LJ challenge. The prompt was this picture:

 

While she was still living on the TARDIS, being woken up by the Doctor bouncing up and down on her bed was a completely normal occurrence.

“You humans and your sleep,” he would sigh, hopping off of the bed and devoting his attention to taking away the pillow Rose was using to cover her ears.

 

“If I gave you the chance, Rose Tyler, you would sleep at least half of your life away!” The pillow would finally be tugged from Rose’s grasp and thrown across the room, earning the Doctor a disapproving hum from the TARDIS.

 

Ignoring his ship’s scolding, the Doctor would move on to pulling the duvet off of Rose’s pyjama clad body. “Wellll, maybe not an entire half. But still far too much. Now, Time Lords, we—“ What was sure to be more rambling about the superiority of Time Lords was always cut off by Rose throwing her second pillow at the Doctor’s face.

 

He would give her one of those “I’m so sorry I upset you, but I will be doing the same thing tomorrow morning” looks, offer to make the tea, and flee from Rose’s bedroom, preening his hair on the way out.

 

Even when he had big ears and a leather jacket, the Doctor had always refused to let Rose sleep in. Though not quite as childish as his future regeneration, the Doctor would always walk in to Rose’s bedroom without knocking, drag in a chair that Rose cursed the TARDIS for providing him with, and start reading out loud. In Gallifreyan. In Gallifreyan which he knew the TARDIS wouldn’t translate. The Doctor would always gradually raise his voice until he reached what Rose assumed was the end of the chapter, by which point he was nearly screaming. Then, he would close the book, push the chair back into the hall, and loudly yell, “IT’S WAKE UP TIME FOR THE PRIMATES!” in that Northern accent of his. Rose’s secret had been that sometimes she woke up when he first entered the room and enjoyed lying in bed, listening to his voice reading, even if she couldn’t understand the words.

So really, Rose should have known better than to expect the Doctor to sleep in on a Saturday, his favourite day of the week. In her defense, it had been years since she had been woken up via Doctor and it was their first night actually staying in the same _room_ , let alone bed. Naïvely, Rose thought that maybe the stress of the past three days would have caused him to sleep longer. Or that the reality of being stuck in one time, on one planet, without a TARDIS would have caught up with him and drained some of his excess energy, causing him to want to lounge instead of bounce around. Hell, shouldn’t the fact that he was now half human mean he slept a _human_ amount? Apparently not.

 

As she was reminded at 6:30 in the morning on one of the _two_ Saturdays she could have actually slept in since Pete had demanded she take a two week vacation from Torchwood, the man standing at the foot of her bed doing some combination of bouncing and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet was not just half human. He was also half Time Lord, and definitely 100% Doctor.

 

“You’re _awake_ and it’s still _morning_!” he cooed, as if he was praising a child for learning how to walk.

 

Rose glared at him as she climbed out of bed. “Yeah, well, it was a bit hard to sleep through you firing a canon in the kitchen.”

 

The Doctor winced, immediately redirecting his focus to a nonexistent stain on the carpet of Rose’s bedroom floor. “Actually, it wasn’t anything involving _canons_ , Rose. It was just that you were sleeping, like _always_ , and I was bored.”

 

“What did I tell you about touching any appliances, electronics, or breakable items in my apartment?”

 

“You _may_ have said that you’d have Jackie give me a hair cut, but—“

 

Rose, who was now standing inside of her wardrobe, sifting through clothes, shook her head. “I said she’d give you a hair cut _and_ do your makeup. Don’t forget the makeup. I learned how to overuse mascara from the best.”

 

“ _Rose!_ ” The Doctor dramatically shuddered at the thought, his eyes squeezing shut in an effort to block out the mental image and his mouth grimacing as if he had just eaten a lemon whole.

 

He allowed himself a few seconds to recover from the trauma while Rose selected a pink sundress from the wardrobe. A pink dress for his pink and yellow girl, he thought with a tiny smile.

 

“I wasn’t even trying to improve your microwave, though, Rose. Trust me, if I was trying to make an improvement, I would _not_ have buggered it up and—“ The Doctor stopped midsentence when Rose casually slipped off her jim jams and walked all the way across what suddenly seemed like a very large room to reach her dresser, still starkers, before beginning her search for undergarments. Oh, she was definitely doing this on purpose.

 

“I was trying to use pieces from your appliances, electronics, and breakables to build a new sonic screwdriver!” he confessed in a rush, not bothering to take his eyes off of Rose getting dressed.

 

Rose sighed. The Doctor had not complained much about the absence of a TARDIS in this universe yet, but he had started whining about not having a sonic on his first night here and had not shut up about it since. The part of her that spent a year and a half in Pete and Torchwood mandated therapy was worried that the Doctor was displacing his sense of loss and frustration by focusing on the sonic, something more realistically fixable.

 

“You know what, Doctor? Let’s get out of the flat today. We can walk around, find a chip shop…”

 

“What about an ice cream shop?” The Doctor suggested, huge smile now back in place.

 

Rose bit her lip, reluctant to take away the new excitement in the Doctor’s voice. “I haven’t actually been to an ice cream shop here, just chip shops. I didn’t spend much time exploring outside of work…”

 

“But I know where one is!” He seemed to like this, knowing one thing more about a universe that was brand new to him than Rose, who had spent years there. “I was using your laptop while you were showering last night and I found this _brilliant_ ice cream shop.”

 

Rose raised an eyebrow. “A brilliant ice cream shop?”

 

The Doctor nodded, taking this matter very seriously. “They have over forty different flavours, Rose! Mind you, not as impressive as some planets I’ve been to, but not bad at all for an ice cream shop on earth. There’s strawberry and blueberry and—“

 

“We’ll go,” Rose said quickly, cutting him off before he could list every flavour the shop had. “You just write down the address while I do my hair and makeup.”

 

By the size smile he gave her, you would have thought Rose had promised him a million pounds.

 

\--- --- ---

 

“Have you picked a flavour yet?” Rose whispered, sending an apologetic smile to the growing queue of people behind them. When the Doctor finally nodded, Rose felt a flood of relief. And then he opened his mouth.

 

“I’ll have two scoops of each flavour, please.” he said sweetly to the lady behind the counter.

 

Rose asked the question the lady had to have been thinking. “Doctor, you do realize how much ice cream that is, right?”

 

“I need to test out my new taste buds,” The Doctor whined, “See if I like the same flavours or different flavours. And I need two scoops of each because you are _not_ stealing any of my ice cream.” he concluded, waving a dismissive hand in Rose’s direction.

 

“But—“

 

“Besides, you’re an heiress now,” the Doctor smirked, “The money should be _no_ problem.”

 

A dangerous man, full of blood and anger and revenge, her arse. Rose was going to spend the rest of her life with a 900 year old child. Cracking a smile, she shook her head. Stuck with him, that wasn’t so bad. 

 


End file.
